Monday, 28 August 2017

... is to expect nothing in return.
Self-preservation dictates this. I used to send out letters and emails, and leave
phone messages and suggested contact times, and then happily await responses.
Not so, these days. I am inordinately joyous if an editor replies with a
negative, as long as it is still positive.

My most scathing reply to a submitted article was along the lines of ‘we
only accept well-researched pieces, not short, bitty ones’. OK, no beating
around the bush, even though it did take me a couple of prods to get those few
words. Honestly, was the submitted article worthy of such ‘ouch’? Probably. At
least, I got something back. But, I’d still be curious to work out how one can be on the job pile one day and dish out such delicacies the next.
What is the timeframe for editors and publishers to go from being generous,
humble and supportive to condescending and indifferent?

I’d come across this attitude previously, in circles other than
publishing. My medical specialists’ secretaries have always been particularly good
at giving me the brush off, defending at all costs their partner-by-association
superiors and unaware of how much more important kindness and compassion are following
unsettling consultations.

Living in France, I learnt that it was easier to start something expecting a ‘no’. Before
attempting to do anything administrative, I’d mentally rehearse all that needed
to be said; prepare and sort all the documentation that I figured would need
presenting; take a few extra bits of paper for good luck; expect a long wait to
be seen and subsequent parking fine; and practice simultaneously clenching and rolling
my tongue between my teeth in an attempt to stop the tears that would start to spurt
when being told that what I had come to do would not be possible.

Fortunately, there are still some kind-hearted, generous people out
there: Amongst others…established authors (#patricialsands) who started following
me on Goodreads when there was not much to follow; fellow Instagrammers and bloggers
(#eatlivtravwrite) who chose to buy and review my book despite being sent
postboxes full of free ones to review each week; interviewers (#thebookpodcast)
who feature known, prize-winning authors…and me; store owners (#frenchcargo, #languagebookcentre) who not only stock my book but promote it enthusiastically;
blogger/authors (French word-a-day and An Accidental blog) who listed my book
on their sites and did not ask for anything in return and everyone who has purchased our family story 'But you are in France, Madame'. To all of you, 'thank-you'.

...and, if you haven't already purchased my ebook and would like to do so, it would be lovely if you used the link in Mardi Michels article, as it is part of the Amazon affiliate program...just a small way of showing your (and my) appreciation - and it costs you no more. If you would prefer a print copy, then another affiliate link is to be found in Kristin Espinasse'sFrench word-a-day blog. Again, a purchase here would be so very much appreciated by us both. Merci beaucoup.

Wednesday, 9 August 2017

A recent review of 'But you are in France, Madame' touched me as, despite never having met, knowing nothing about me other than what the reviewer had read in my book, her words show that she has really grasped the essence of who I am. She focuses her review on our respect and love for the French culture, in spite of (and sometimes (with teeth gritted) because of...) the difficulties of living in France. I am sharing an excerpt of her review below and for the full article, click here

"Catherine is an evocative writer and paints a picture with her words which will whisk you away to her life in France as you read each chapter. But perhaps even more than Catherine’s way with words, what I loved about this book was the family’s utter respect for the French (language, culture, people) and their surroundings. Instead of complaining about the mind-numbing pace at which things sometimes move, the quirks of #lifeinFrance and the frustrations that go along with all that, Catherine and her family seek to integrate fully into life in their new home, questioning things, for sure, but mostly wanting to make sure they are doing the right thing, even if sometimes (often) life in France is difficult. As Catherine says, despite the tongue-in-cheek nature of some of the stories she shares, the family really did love everything about their life in France. The book is also just as much an exploration of French culture (with a bit of history thrown in for good measure) as it is a story of an expat family living in the French alps."

If you haven't already purchased my ebook, it would be lovely if you used the link in Mardi Michels article, as it is part of the Amazon affiliate program...just a small way of showing your (and my) appreciation - and it costs you no more. The article is part of her Summer Reads series...and while you are there, have a look around at Mardi's blog Eat. Live. Travel. Write.

PS If you would prefer a print copy, then another Affiliate link is to be found in Kristin Espinasse's French word-a-day blog. Again, a purchase here would be so very much appreciated by us both.

Monday, 7 August 2017

For those of you who are new to the blog, let me introduce you to Monsieur Vélo.

His first appearance 'Just say it's Monsieur Vélo' was the result of a chance meeting whilst out on a bike ride, at the top of Semnoz, near Annecy. On this occasion, he was treated to French warmth and hospitality.

In today's France Today article, Monsieur Vélo is once again on his bike, and once again, the kind recipient of French generosity.

For my family and I, living in France, this French welcome has also overwhelmingly been our experience and for that we say 'thanks'.

.

Instagram

But you are in France, Madame

To buy Catherine's book, 'But you are in France, Madame' click on image above.

This Blog

This Blog is a collection of stories, started when I was living in the French Alps with my husband and three children (originally under the title Conversations from France). It was never meant to be a daily diary, nor was it necessarily chronological. It did; however, reinforce, despite the tongue-in-cheek nature of some stories, how much we loved living where we were.

Returning to Australia, I continued to write. It made the transition easier and was a wonderful way to not forget our special few years. My book, But you are in France, Madame (above), was the result. Please contact me for more information (cb222@me.com) or click on the picture if you are interested in purchasing a copy.